I can’t escape them!

In my circuit of reading outdoorsy type blogs I swing by “ and a strong cup of coffee” every few months to catch up on Erin from Maine’s anti-tick fetish. I find her rants of repugnance and loathing for these disgusting creatures comical. I am right there with her.

(A strong cup of coffee) There I was, morning mug of coffee and the newspaper. Enjoy some quiet before the day started. I turned the page and there it was – another article about ticks. I shuttered and as I read the article, I was informed that I am basically doomed.

My hatred of those little disease-filled creepy crawlies has been chronicled twice before (1 and 2) but this brought it to a whole new level: babesiosis. And apparently its on track to rival Lyme disease in the tick-borne illness category. *Shutters* Keep Reading

Few things can put me in stage three linear panic quicker than seeing my pants turn black with a few billion of the bloodsucking miniature nightmares known as “sea ticks”. Or having a deer tick — which has a six foot vertical leap — jump over a log, unbutton my shirt and quickly make a home in that one part of my body I forgot to check when I shucked my clothes in the middle of the woods.

About BC

"That's baseball, and it's my game. Y' know, you take your worries to the game, and you leave 'em there. You yell like crazy for your guys. It's good for your lungs, gives you a lift, and nobody calls the cops. Pretty girls, lots of 'em."
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